


Earnestly yours

by Meero94



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Fluff, M/M, Music, Musician Connor, Pianist Connor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-04-05 05:02:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4166943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meero94/pseuds/Meero94
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor played the piano whenever he felt sad or stressed. He had come to expect the melodies to flow and his thoughts to slow down, but what he never expected was for his neighbor to start singing along. Still, that was exactly what happened.</p><p>For the prompt; I always sing along to the song you are playing on the piano in the apartment below.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Earnestly yours

**Author's Note:**

> The work title comes from the piece by Keaton Henson called Earnestly Yours, because I'm a little in love with it and his work in general.  
> As a disclaimer; I can't read Sheet Music or play the piano to save my life, so if you can do either and I offend you with my lack of knowledge I apologize in advance. I had a lot of fun writing this and I really hope you guys like it.
> 
> Written for a tumblr prompt taken from [this post](http://sulkybbarnes.tumblr.com/post/121521834497/alternate-universe-ideas).
> 
> P.S: You should imagine Conrad Ricamora's singing voice because that's what I did!

Connor had been playing the piano for as long as he could remember. His mom used to joke that he learned how to play before he learned how to walk, which never made much sense to Connor but made him proud all the same. Years later and Connor’s piano remained the one constant in his life, throughout school years, apartment changes, and numerous not-quite relationships –Connor’s music was there for him the way nothing -and no one- else was. It was sufficient to say that Connor took great pride and joy in playing, and that he never thought the sound of his piano’s music could be improved upon –until he heard  _him_ sing along to it. 

Connor wasn’t one for playing Classical music often; although he loved the pieces dearly, they still made him think back to a darker time in his life, one where he was a lost angry teenage boy, trying and failing to see a light at the end of the tunnel. Those days were long behind Connor and so he left Beethoven and Tchaikovsky there with them, only to be taken out and dusted on the days he felt the world closing in on him. Therefore most days found Connor playing an array of songs, starting with Disney/Dreamworks songs and going as far as musicals and love ballads, depending on how stressed out he felt. 

♫♫♫

The first time it happened, Connor had been playing Journey to The Past from the movie Anastasia. He had been feeling particularly lonely that day after a long phone call with his mom, and so Connor did what he always did best when emotional or nostalgic and started to play. It took him a few false starts to get the tune from memory, but after the fourth or fifth time Connor could hear the song tinkling through his head and he finally got the notes right. Except that the sound of Connor’s piano wasn’t the only one he could hear this time. From somewhere in the apartment right above Connor’s, the lyrics floated down to him and made his fingers falter for a second before regaining their graceful dance.

_Heart, don’t fail me now. Courage, don’t desert me. Don’t turn back, now that we are here!_

The man’s voice -for it was definitely a man singing- washed over Connor in its warmth and steadiness. It was a voice you heard singing on Broadway in theaters, and not something you’d expect to come randomly from the stranger living upstairs. Connor kept playing, eager to hear more of the man’s velvety voice. 

_People always say life is full of choices, no one ever mentions feeeear!_

Connor couldn’t help but close his eyes, knowing that he messed up a few notes but uncaring as the man’s voice continued to wash over him. Maybe he was imagining the sense of safety that the stranger’s voice gave him, and maybe he was tired from too long hours under Keating’s iron grip, but instead of annoyance or curiosity, Connor felt at peace the more his neighbor sang. It was a testament to how thin the walls were that Connor could hear the stranger clapping once the music drifted to a soft end.

Connor felt the loss of the voice at once; the silence suddenly stifling, and it didn’t make sense in the slightest, so Connor did the second best thing he knew how to do and retreated to hide in his room. The physical ache in his chest both angered and saddened him, leading Connor to hastily attribute the whole thing to tiredness and ditch his piano for the next few days.

♫♫♫

The next time Connor played had been a few days later but around the same time as the session prior. He had all but forgotten about the incident from a few days ago, electing to push it to the back of his mind and going about his life as usual. Connor had been nervous and jittery all day long; they had had a hard case for the past few days and were only now getting some rest. After an entire weekend spent squinting at legal documents and drowning in coffee.

Connor had heard this song Take Me To Church by Hozier on the radio while driving to court two days ago, and he simply could not get it out of his head. He looked up the sheet music online but came up blank and vowed to write one down himself whenever he had time. He could do it now, he thought, but it seemed like too much work and he just wanted to play the damn thing and relax. And so, much like the last time, Connor decided to play from memory and had a lot of false starts. He got the hang of it after a few tries and the music streamed freely the next time he played.

The singing startled him when his neighbor finally joined in but Connor kept playing, the same sense of warmth spreading over him as last time.

_The only heaven I’ll be sent to is when I’m alone with you. I was born sick, but I love it._

_Command me to be well._

_Aaay. Amen. Amen. Amen._

Connor couldn’t believe just how well that voice wrapped around the words, how it made him feel excited and calm at once. It mixed so well with his music and Connor found that he was dreading the end of the song. Beautiful as the original song was, this man made it sound even better, and his deep voice reverberated through Connor and made his stomach drop. The man applauded when Connor finished playing, and silence fell once again making Connor feel strangely bereft.

Connor let his forehead drop loudly against the ivory keys. What the hell was his problem?!

♫♫♫

The third time it happened, Connor was in a better mood and decided to play something happier. He told himself that he chose this time of day out of mere coincidence, and that it had nothing to do with him wanting his neighbor to be at home like the last two times and maybe sing along. That would be absurd, and Connor Walsh refused to do absurd thank you very much.

 Connor sighed to himself then started aimlessly plucking at a few keys until the right tune presented itself to him and he smirked. This time he played Shake It Off by Taylor Swift, out of everything this song had been stuck in his head and he was merely human after all, and man enough to admit to liking bothTaylor Swift  _and_  One Direction. A man of fine taste he was. 

This time it took Connor’s neighbor a little longer to identify the song -probably because Connor got it right only on second try unlike the last time- and Connor’s heart fell when the man didn’t join in right away. A few beats later however and the unmistakable sound of someone laughingly belting out Taylor Swift drifted over. Connor grinned and continued playing, in awe of the man’s ability to keep up with the song, shouting the lyrics like there was no tomorrow, and still managing to sound great. Maybe the man really did work in theater, Connor mused.

_It’s like I got this music in my mind. Saying; it’s gonna be ALRIGHT!_

The last word was shouted, making Connor snort and shake his head as he continued playing. He felt lighter this time, a smile stretching his face and his neighbor’s voice cheering him up as well as soothing his loneliness. The song wasn’t a long one, and it sadly came to a fast end. Connor anticipated the applause this time, but his neighbor surprised him by cheering instead. Very loudly. 

“Oh my god,” Connor laughed at the ceiling. “Keep it down, you dork!” He muttered to no one in particular, surprised at his own chuckle when it followed his words.

He honestly couldn’t remember the last time he called someone a dork and sounded fond while saying it. Connor Walsh sounded fond. And he hadn’t even met the guy yet. He was officially losing it.

 _Yet?_ Connor questioned his own thoughts.  _Oh hell no._

He stormed out of his apartment and to the nearest bar before he did something stupid, like seek out the man living in 303 for instance.

♫♫♫

It became something of a weekly habit. Connor would come back home with a song in mind, play it a few times to let his neighbor catch up, and then they’d perform a spectacular duet of whatever Connor fancied that day. So far 303 -because that’s what Connor had taken to calling him- hadn’t messed up a single song, always knowing which one Connor was playing and singing along. Surprisingly enough, no one had called the police on them for disturbance either. Connor figured that the other tenants either liked their mini concerts or simply didn’t give a fuck about them. Connor was content with either option as long as he didn’t have to call Wes to come bail him out of jail any time soon.

They burned through various songs, Fool’s Gold by One Direction featured on a Tuesday, on Friday it was A Whole New World from Aladdin, Monday saw them collaborating Going Back to Hogwarts from AVPM -which proved to be a true challenge but made things more fun when Connor sang along for the first time ever- and by the end of week three, Connor was falling a little bit in love with the mysterious voice and feeling a lot better than he usually did. 

It was with distracted thoughts and daydreams about meeting the owner of the voice that Connor ended up being late for work on Monday. He practically sprinted towards the elevator, jabbing impatiently at the button and sighing in relief when it made its way down from the upper floor.

The doors opened with a  _ding!_ revealing a man in a dark grey suit already stood inside. Connor stepped into the elevator, sparing the man a quick nod and getting one in return. Connor didn’t make a habit of staring at people, but something about this guy drew Connor’s attention back to his face. He had thick rimmed glasses on, his hair was neatly styled back, and his eyes looked to be a warm brown though Connor couldn’t be sure about that without outright staring. He thought that the man wasn’t a bad sight to see first thing in the morning, and he must have been more tired than he thought, because he managed to stare a bit longer than intended. The guy noticed Connor’s gaze and returned it with a faint flush and raised eyebrows. Connor gave an apologetic smile and received a kind, if confused-looking, one in return. They came to a stop at the ground floor and parted ways, the man throwing a warm “ _Thank you_ ” over his shoulder when Connor held the building’s door for him on their way out.

Halfway to his car Connor froze because he suddenly realized that the man’s voice sounded  _familiar._ It was only the two words said to him but he could swear that –no, it couldn’t be, he was projecting his hopes and daydreams. That must be it. It was just too good to be true that the man Connor had been thinking about for the past few weeks would be  _this_ hot guy, and that Connor would randomly run into him just like that.

He shook his head with a sigh and pushed the false hope away, because dwelling would only get him distracted and earn him glares from his superiors and teasing smirks from his friends. There was no way that the guy from the elevator was Connor’s Singing Guy, and Connor refused to entertain the idea any longer. 

He still thought the elevator guy had a really nice smile. 

♫♫♫

A couple months passed and Connor didn’t run into the guy with the sweet smile again, but he continued his weekly duets with his neighbor. They had somewhat of a system going for them by now, one where they start around four in the evening and burn their way through two or three songs, mostly on Tuesdays. 

A few weeks before Christmas, the Keating Five were handed another stubborn case but this time it was one with an impending deadline in the form of a trial. Connor spent the better part of a week cooped up at Keating’s apartment with his four other colleagues, missing his Tuesday Sing Along –the title had been Laurel’s idea after she found out about Connor’s neighbor and silently laughed at him for five minutes- and feeling awful because of it. He sulked his way through the rest of the week; working on the case all day long, and only heading home for a change of clothes, until they closed the case the next Sunday and Connor could finally look forward to getting some sleep  _and_ playing some songs on Tuesday. Keating had given them the next few days off unless something came up, and Connor intended to make full use of that. He wanted to lounge around and play new songs, maybe even go out for drinks if he felt up to it. 

Life, it turned out, had other plans for him. Connor woke up with a scratch at the back of his throat Monday morning. He brushed it off and went about his day, tidying up his cluttered apartment and sorting through some old papers. He thought that the tightness in his chest would vanish by evening, but the sunset only brought Connor a fever and a killer headache to boot. Connor knew that he officially had the flu by Tuesday morning, and he kind of hated his life because this meant that he was bedridden. Which in turn meant that he couldn’t play the piano for the second week in a row. Marvelous.  

Connor groaned miserably into his pillow. 

♫♫♫

The knock on Connor’s door drew him out of a restless sleep. He checked the time and found out it was around 9pm, so he had only been asleep for a couple hours. Laurel and Wes had come and gone a few hours prior, they brought soup and medicine and promised that Michaela and Asher would check on him first thing tomorrow morning. A few years ago Connor would have told them that he wasn’t a kid and rolled his eyes at the concern, pretending that he needed nothing and no one, but three years of working and studying alongside the other four had changed a lot about Connor. He hated to admit it but he had gone soft around the edges, his walls never came down completely but he was nothing like the conceited asshole he used to be all those years ago. Not in the ways that mattered, at any rate. 

With a sigh and some muttered curses, Connor gathered his blanket around him and made his slow trek towards the door. He ran a hand through his messy hair and cursed the cold weather that chilled his heated skin even though he was wearing his softest hoodie _and_ a blanket. 

“Wes if you tell me you forgot your cellphone here  _again_ I’ll-” Connor’s grumbling cut off with a start because the man stood at his doorstep was definitely  _not_ Wes. In fact the man looked a little familiar, but Connor’s flu-ridden brain couldn’t point out where he saw him before. “Um, you’re not Wes.” Connor said slowly, his eyes burning with every blink.

“I, um, no... No I’m not,” The man stammered out, he looked a little lost, as if he knocked on the door by accident rather than by choice. “I’m sorry, you’re expecting someone aren’t you? This was stupid. I’ll just… go. I’ll go. Sorry.”

The man got it all out in one breath, toying with thick rimmed glasses and the hem of his shirt as he spoke. He flushed a deep red once he finished talking then turned to go, prompting Connor to speak louder than he intended when his brain finally kicked into play.

“Wait a second,” Connor called out, and the guy turned around with a nervous look. “I know you. You live here, right? I’ve seen you around before.”

 _It’s Elevator Guy_ , Connor thought triumphantly.  _The cute one with the nice smile! No wonder he sounded familiar._

“Yeah I do live here,” The man confirmed, moving a step back into Connor’s direction and looking so nervous Connor felt bad for him. “I didn’t know  _you_ lived here though. I mean I knew you lived in the building, just not in this apartment. I’m-” The guy took a deep breath and seemed to steel himself in the process, taking a few more steps so he was stood directly in front of Connor once again. “I’m doing this all wrong, sorry.”

“I really don’t understand what’s going on,” Connor stated then gave the man a confused smile to ease his nerves.

“Correct me if I’m wrong but you must be the guy who plays the piano in this apartment every week?” The man asked and Connor’s heart sank, maybe he spoke too soon about the tenants not minding his music. Connor nodded cautiously, an apology at the tip of his tongue –except that the guy gave him a beautiful smile and continued talking. “Well, I’m the guy living right above your apartment.”

The man, who must be the one living in 303, gave Connor a meaningful look at that and it took a second for Connor’s brain to catch up and then –Oh.  _Oh._

“You’re telling me,” Connor started with a twitch of his lips, suddenly feeling some of the flu’s haze lifting away. “That you’re my sing-along partner from the past few months?”

“Yeah,” The guy smiled -damn did that smile look even nicer up close- and rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you. I’ve been debating whether or not I should come see you for over a week, since you haven’t played in a while, and when you didn’t play again today I just-” The man shrugged, seeming even more embarrassed now that he started explaining himself. “I thought it’d be a good idea to check on you and maybe introduce myself. I obviously haven’t thought it through much though. This is a little awkward.”

“A little bit,” Connor chuckled and it seemed to put the guy at ease. “And you haven’t really introduced yourself yet, 303.″

“Oh. I haven’t? This is a train wreck,” The man looked to be five seconds away from face-palming. Connor bit down a laugh. “I’m Oliver Hampton,” Oliver said with a small wave.  _What a dork._  “Hey.”

 “Nice to meet you, Oliver Hampton,” Connor smirked then reached out for the man’s hand to shake. “Connor Walsh, and I definitely appreciate both your concern  _and_ vocal abilities.” 

“T-thank you,” Oliver grinned, although his ears were burning a red color. “You look sick, I’m guessing that’s why you haven’t been playing? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, last week it was long hours at the office, this week it’s the flu,” Connor shrugged, acutely aware of the bright red blanket draped around his shoulders and the state of his hair. He finally got to meet the hot stranger with the warm voice and the perfect smile, and he looked like shit personified while doing it. Great, really. “I’ll be better come Friday however, maybe we can carry on the Sing Along then.”

“You’re calling it a Sing Along?” Oliver laughed softly. Even his stupid laugh sounded musical.

“It was my friend who came up with that, actually. Long story,” Connor smiled. He could feel Oliver preparing to say his goodbyes and something in Connor just didn’t want that to happen. He knew that his apartment wasn’t that clean at the moment, knew that he looked awful and might accidentally fall asleep at any moment –and yet. “Do you want to come in? I’ll make us tea or coffee, tell you how my friends gave me shit for the mini-concerts we held each week.”

 _Smooth, Connor!_ He thought with an internal grin. He wasn’t losing his touch it seemed.

“Are you sure I won’t be bothering you?” Oliver asked sweetly, the concerned curve of his mouth turning into a smile when Connor assured him. “Alright then, coffee sounds great.” 

Connor stepped aside to let Oliver in. He wasn’t sure what the night entailed or where this would lead in the future, but Oliver seemed kind and the sound of his voice made something flutter somewhere in Connor’s chest, so he decided to stop overthinking this and allow things to flow to their own accord. The way good music did. 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm oddly fond of this ficlet, and I don't know if you guys liked it or not, but I might add Oliver's pov as a second chapter since it's half-written in my head. I'd love to hear what you guys think, and even a few suggestions for what other songs they could play if I write another chapter. Tell me what you think!
> 
> Kudos/comments are most appreciated, and you can always find me on sulkybbarnes on tumblr! 
> 
> The covers I listened to while writing this;
> 
> [Journey to the past](Journey%20to%20the%20past%20) piano cover
> 
> [Take Me to Church](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J0WBr2AoMBg%20) piano cover
> 
> [Shake it off](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UGDQTSohQ4k%20) piano cover


End file.
